How to Play Dead

by Jacqueline Ward

  ‘How long will you be away, then?’

  He stopped and stared ahead.

  ‘Why?’

  I could feel it bubbling up inside me, a cauldron of hate. I tried to keep it inside but I couldn’t. It slipped out like treacle, thick and soft but more than I intended.

  ‘It’s her, isn’t it? You’re going with her?’

  He turned to face me.

  ‘For fuck’s sakes. Have you learned nothing?’ He stepped towards me. I got up and pressed against the sink. ‘Shut. Your. Fucking. Stupid. Mouth.’

  I was shaking. But there was no way I could stop the tirade.

  ‘You never stopped sleeping with her, did you? That’s why—’

  But he grabbed me. He grabbed me by the throat and he bent me backwards over the sink.

  ‘You think you’re so clever, don’t you? You think you know everything. But you don’t even know what happened back then.’

  He let me go, but I was glued to the spot, my legs like jelly. He went on, pacing around the kitchen.

  ‘She never chased me. She was never interested in me. She was fucking snooping; trying to find something she could use to get you back.’

  I interrupted. Not something I would normally do but this was new.

  ‘But you said you slept with her…’

  ‘Fucked her. Yeah.’ He moved closer to me again. I turned my head but I could feel his breath on my cheek. ‘I did fuck her.’ He grabbed my chin and pulled my face towards him. ‘I raped her.’

  I felt my face flush and bile rise in my throat. He was smiling. Smiling widely.

  ‘Up at the rocks. I needed to make sure that she would never say anything about us going away. And she didn’t.’ He pressed himself against me. ‘And now …’

  He let me go and I sank to the floor, my knees too weak to support me. He walked over to the large suitcase and slammed it shut.

  ‘So are you going to her now?’

  I heard the words come out but it didn’t sound like me. Not the strong voice in my head that was driving this madness. He snorted.

  ‘Have you not been fucking listening, Alice? She’s was nothing. But you. You’re already gone. Invisible. They’ve been looking for your body since the day we went. So no one is going to come looking for you.’

  He picked up his car keys up and I ran at him. Full force.

  ‘You can’t do this. You can’t hurt her…’

  He punched me and knocked me on to the floor, then crouched over me, holding my arms.

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong. I can do anything I want to. Anything. I’ll say one thing for her, she’s a trier, not a fucked-up mess like you.’

  I stared at him. If this was going to be my last breath, I would make it good.

  ‘You did this to me. You. You’re a violent rapist. I hate you.’

  He stared down at me for a long few seconds then he jumped up, took the suitcases and was gone. I lay there, the sun on my face through the window. She hadn’t gone after him. She hadn’t tried to steal him from me. I’d hated her all this time for nothing. He hadn’t been with her. But he would have been with someone …

  I touched my face. It was swollen and sore where he had punched me with his full force. I could feel my ear swelling. My mind raced over the pointless, childish, petty scenarios as it avoided the real issue. The room was becoming darker and darker as the shutters closed.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Day 11

  After Sheila’s revelation yesterday, and the aftermath of her deep sadness, I felt reluctant to leave her. But I had to rush home. I finished the day tucking my children safely in their beds and kissing them hard on their foreheads. Donelle had picked them up from school, feeding them fast food and sugary drinks then chasing them up and down the road, until I caught her checking her phone.

  ‘OK?’

  Her sad eyes are enough.

  ‘He didn’t call.’ I hug her. She looks bereft. Like me, she’s putting on a brave face, doing everything she should. But inside she is tortured. ‘What’s wrong with me, Ri?’

  I held her closer.

  ‘Nothing. It’s his problem, not yours. I’m here, Don, anytime. I mean it.’

  But she doesn’t take me up on it. She stares at her phone, waiting for the ringtone, the name. His name. It doesn’t come and she leaves looking completely dejected.

  When I wake at 9 a.m., Jennifer is standing beside me, looking very intense, with a bowl of cornflakes in one hand and a bottle of Diet Coke in the other.

  ‘Mummy, are we going to see Grandma today?’

  I nod and relieve her of her load. I see the time and quickly check my messages. I’d asked Janice to make sure Sheila was checked more often, I’m deep-down worried about her. But there are no alerts. I consider phoning her, but it’s Saturday and I need to be with my children.

  ‘Yes, yes we are. Unless …’

  ‘So has Grandma got a husband?’

  She’s trying a different way around. My two are obsessed with family, with relationships. It’s fairly easy at Danny’s end, with Danny and Donelle being obvious siblings, just like Simon and Jennifer. Vi and Danny Snr rubbing long side by side, just like me and Danny. But Mum … I can understand the mystery. In their life suddenly, just for a couple of hours, then gone. No context for her, not even me. But I’m not going to lie to my children. Not because of my dad’s small-minded prejudice.

  ‘Yeah. My dad.’

  She makes an O with her mouth.

  ‘Your daddy? Like Daddy?’

  I laugh. No. Not like Danny at all. Unless, when they went into that little Dorma bungalow at night, they suddenly collapsed into a giggling heap of familiarity. Their relationship was more like an agreement, sharing ideas heaped up against the world. No. Not like Danny at all.

  ‘Yes, Jen, he is my daddy. But not so much like your daddy. Quite different.’

  She picks at her nails.

  ‘So where is he then?’

  My smile fades. She wants a definitive answer. But this is all part of the innocence of children. That they don’t have to understand people who take against them for nothing; they are protected against it.

  ‘He lives with Grandma at their house.’

  ‘But why don’t you see him, if he is your daddy?’

  I see the horror dawn on her, the terrible realisation that is inevitable in this conversation. That, one day, she might not see Danny. I hug her.

  ‘Oh, sweetheart. It’s not that I don’t see him. It’s just that he’s busy. He’s…’

  ‘An astronaut? Or a giraffe keeper? Because they would be busy.’

  I nod vigorously, pulling her into me. The warmth of my bed is pure tranquilliser, and we lie there for a few minutes.

  ‘Don’t worry, kiddo. Your daddy will always love you. No matter what.’

  We get up and go into town. As we approach Boots I see Mum, all dolled up again. Even more this week. As I get closer, I see a streak of lipstick across her mouth. Expensive, stay-on lipstick, understated but pearly bright. She looks ten years younger. She turns to see us and Jennifer and Simon run towards her. Her worried glance at me alerts me to something not quite right.

  ‘Hello, you two.’

  Hugs are had, and I loiter around, not really knowing if there will be a repeat of last week. She would need to suggest it as I cannot afford the damage rejection from her would do right now. But she points in the general direction of the games centre.

  ‘Coffee again?’ She seems more confident this week. I nod. ‘Been taking a leaf out of your book this week. I’ve been volunteering. Cancer Research charity shop. But I might have to do the odd Saturday so …’

  I smile. ‘Great. That’s OK. You know you can see them anytime. So how’s Dad?’

  It just slips out, like a giant wriggly snake that wound itself around us, strangling out any conversation we might have had. She is silent and we watch the kids run ahead. We reach the shop and sit, and she goes to the counter and orders exactly the same a
s last time, without asking. She doesn’t turn to smile at me and she doesn’t even smile at Jennifer when she shouts at her. Something is wrong. When she sits down with our coffee, I open my mouth to speak but she pre-empts me.

  ‘I’m glad you asked about your father. He’s been … well, over-interested in recent goings-on.’

  I almost know before she says it. Her flushed cheeks and her demure manner tell me that she is going to talk about when I was still living at home. She has a certain stance, where she becomes more upright and formal. I take the bait.

  ‘Goings-on?’

  She nods.

  ‘Yes. All that stuff with Dougie Peters never really went away, you know. I mean, after a decent period he should have accepted what had happened and got on with his life. ‘

  She is looking into her coffee. My anger rises.

  ‘Well, I would certainly want to know what happened to my only child.’

  She nods. ‘Oh yes, of course. But some questions don’t have answers, do they? I mean, you never find out why some things happened.’

  I cannot tell if she is telling me or asking me. Or why. I panic.

  ‘Mum. You know what I think—’

  She interrupts in a high-pitched, louder than necessary voice. ‘Which was why I was surprised when your dad said that there had been police up by that pond. You know, up that little path way over the hill.’ She swallows. ‘I got in yesterday and your dad wasn’t there. I panicked a bit as he’s always in his chair. So I walked up the road to see if he’d gone up to Tom Lovell’s looking at his Triumph – he does now and again – and there he was. Him and Dougie, standing halfway up the hill, watching the police milling about up near the rocks.’

  I feel like I am going to faint. My head spins and the pond comes into sharp focus. This was all part of why I left and why we are so distant. It’s something I do not think about.

  ‘There were about seven of them, a car and a van. I stood there for a bit, but they just seemed to be looking. It’s not cordoned off or anything. I heard Dougie telling Martin Jackson that they were reopening the investigation. That they had a new potential lead. Looks tired, Dougie does. All thin and sunken.’

  I can hardly think. The terror inside me threatens to take over but I focus on Jennifer and Simon.

  ‘Yeah. Well. Like I said. You’d be upset too, after what he’s been through. Well, some of us would. Others wouldn’t be so bothered, would they?’

  She looks away.

  ‘He had his reasons.’

  I nod and scrape my chair out.

  ‘Yes. He did. But look at those two. And Danny. Fucking stupid reasons.’

  I get up but she grabs my arm. Her fingers dig in and I see the fear in her eyes.

  ‘Don’t go. I wanted to ask you …’

  I sit back down. I am so tense that I feel brittle and my children’s laughter as they play cuts through me.

  ‘Oh. Right. Finally?’

  She nods. ‘Did you have anything to do with it? Because this is serious now.’

  She says it like I am a child, like I didn’t think it was serious before. I laugh too loud.

  ‘And it wasn’t then?’

  She looks unsure. She looks around, at the door, at the children. She could run now, not face what she must know in her heart is true.

  ‘But Dougie said that you were his girlfriend. That if she had gone, it was because she found out about you and him.’

  I seethe. Surely she can work it out. She has all the evidence.

  ‘I wasn’t his fucking girlfriend. He … he …’

  She looks affronted. But I am on the edge. I try to regroup. ‘So why did you stay with Dad, then? He’s a bigot. A racist. He’s quietly bloody bullied you all your life.’

  ‘That’s different. We’re married. Back then you did what your husband wanted.’

  I snort. ‘It wasn’t the 1930s, you know. Anyway, I should thank you both. You gave me a perfect fucking example of what not to do. He was Alice’s … boyfriend. I told the truth back then. Not that anyone was fucking listening.’

  I fold my arms and she looks offended. I know she hates bad language, but I can’t help myself.

  ‘Well, I hope it keeps fine for you, Ria. Because marriage isn’t easy. Anyway. Did you?’

  I can’t believe it. I look at her now and wonder whether I should tell her about what happened that day. I want to. I want to tell her about the horror of it all. But I don’t because I would just be punishing her. But I tell myself. Again. This is why I have avoided her. This is exactly it.

  It was all so quick. I was reaching the pinnacle of my bravery. I marched around to Dougie’s to tell him what was happening, what Alice was planning. But Dougie wasn’t there and Alice was. She told me she hated me and she never wanted to see me again. She was hysterical, shouting that after everything we had gone through, best friends for ever, I had slept with her boyfriend. I was dumbstruck.

  ‘I haven’t. Alice. You have to believe me. I haven’t.’

  She’d screwed up her face, eyes shut, and screamed at me. ‘He told me. How you’d come on to him. How you’d tempted him. How you …’

  She was crying, sobbing, and I went to hug her but she pushed me backwards. We stared at each other for a while. Then I ran. Out of her house, away from her, tears streaming.

  Suddenly his Ford Fiesta was cruising beside me. He hopped out and stood in front of me. He grabbed my arm and pulled me, my strength no match for his, and before I knew it I was in his car.

  He acted perfectly normally, just like he had when he used to pick me and Alice up from the disco. He drove along, telling me about his day at his job in a tyre-fitting bay and how one of his customers had kicked off. I panicked a bit when he turned to go up the lane toward the rocks, but I told myself not to be silly. Ria’s got a good imagination. That’s what dad was always saying too, agreeing with Mum. I wondered if Alice was right and he did like me?

  He parked up and leaned across to me. He began to kiss me, not gently like the boys at the disco. Hard. Hissing in my ear, ‘You like it rough, don’t you, little girl? Don’t you?’

  I pushed him away.

  ‘Don’t. Don’t.’

  He backed off and held up his hands.

  ‘OK. OK. Let’s just walk.’

  I got out of the car and he pushed me forwards. I stumbled over the heather, looking for an escape on the open ground, but he was behind me all the way. I could hear him unbuckle his belt and when I turned around he had his hand down his pants. I didn’t want it to be like this. I wanted the romance and the kisses. I was scared now. Scared of what he would do. But I’d got in the car. I’d gone there willingly. I never said I didn’t want to. Not until now.

  We stopped at the rock and I looked into the pond. He came up behind me and cupped my breasts, squeezing. It didn’t feel right at all. He had gloves on, the black leather driving gloves from his car. Then he spun me round and I could feel him against me. His hands were in my hair and I panicked and whispered in his ear. ‘I know what’s going on. I know what you are planning. With her.’

  He stopped dead. I stepped backwards but he pulled me towards him.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘She told me. You’re running away.’

  He nodded. He was just standing there, disgusting and obviously aroused.

  ‘Are we now?’

  I was crying. Sobbing lightly.

  ‘Yeah. She tells me everything. She told me just now that you said you’d slept with me. Why would you say that?’

  I started to cry harder. It was fear rather than upset. And my immature, fifteen-year-old self let it all pour out. I could have shut up. Then he would never have known and what happened next would not have scarred me for life.

  He stared at me, his cold eyes all over my body. Then, quick as a flash he grabbed my hair and dragged me over to the pond. I screamed but he pushed my head under the water. My scream went silent and turned to bubbles and I tried to breathe in. He lifted my head
out. His lips were close to my ear.

  ‘If you mention this to anyone you will pay. I will hunt you down and kill you. Understand?’

  I didn’t have time to answer or even nod. My head was plunged into the icy water again and all I could think about was keeping my mouth shut so the water could not get in. He lifted me out again. He lifted up my dress and pulled my pants down and he was inside me. It hurt and I screamed at him to stop but he didn’t.

  He pushed me on to the ground and he was on top of me, holding my shoulders as he forced my legs open. I stopped screaming and he carried on, on and on until finally it was over. His body went limp and heavy on me and he raised himself up on his arms.

  ‘Now it’s not a lie, is it? Now you have slept with me. Is that what you wanted?’

  He pulled me to my feet. Again, he plunged me under. Longer this time, and I felt the world blacken, but the tug at my hair brought me back. I felt my knees buckle. And he let me sit. I gasped and he spoke into my face.

  ‘You will not mention this to one living person. Not the police. Not Dougie. Not anyone. I mean it. Not ever. Understand?’

  I sobbed and nodded.

  ‘You will never speak to me again. Or Alice. And if you ever tell anyone what she told you, I will come after you.’

  And he was gone. His car sped down the hill. I watched as he reversed at the end of the road and disappeared. It was a hot day and the stone around me was drying fast. I could not move. The shock penetrated every part of me and I shook in the blazing sunshine. I didn’t know anything could hurt so much as my bruised lungs and my scalp where he had pulled out my hair.

  I just went home. That was why my hair was wet and why they sent me upstairs, shouting at me for dripping on their pristine carpets. That was why my lips were sealed, from then until now. This is the first time since then I have been able to piece this together because I had to pretend it didn’t happen just to carry on. Hands over ears, lalalaing my way through life with this weighing me down like a huge boulder. And even now I am terrified just thinking about it. But I do. It’s here, right in front of me. But I never told anyone and Dougie thought Alice was dead.

  I didn’t tell. And if he did anything else he will be found out for raping me and grooming Alice. She was fifteen when they left. Fifteen. I never wanted to think about this again. I should never have got closer to Mum. But I did and life must go on.